Freelancer Prank Wars
by anna1795
Summary: In which the Freelancers wage war on each other with humorous results. Open for suggestions, but no flames! Enjoy.
1. 1 Monster in the Closet

_Well, after much consideration and requesting from some wonderful reviewers, I have attempted to start a story that centers on the (humorous) life and times of the Freelancers. They don't get enough lovin'. Anyways, I'll need your help with this story. If you have any great ideas for pranks that you want me to write about, send your ideas my way, and I'd be happy to write them. In the meantime, here's the first chapter..._

* * *

"Wyoming, why are you looking so tired these days?" Wash asked during one breakfast. The white Freelancer in question was nodding off threateningly over his plate of scrambled eggs and toast, and he lurched back to life at the sound of Wash's voice.

"Huh?" was the tired reply while Wyoming got his bearings. "Oh…sorry, old chap. This nightmarish sound has been keeping me up through the night, and I can't-" he released a gigantic yawn, "-can't sleep because of it."

"Well, what's the noise?" Wash asked curiously, taking a bite out of his banana.

"That's the thing, lad. I don't know what it is, but it won't stop playing. It starts at 2300, and doesn't stop until 0730 the next morning," Wyoming was beginning to sound desperate, looking for a solution to his problem.

"Have you talked with anybody else about this?"

"Indeed. CT, Carolina, South, and even the Councilor. They all inspect my room, and they don't find anything. It's driving me up the wall, Washington!"

"Well, I'll come by tonight, and see what the problem is. Who knows? This mystery sound might show itself to me."

So, the two agents met up at Wyoming's room at 2245 (purposefully ignoring the quizzical and suspicious looks from the other Freelancers still in the hallway). Wyoming went about his usual bedtime routine while Wash settled himself into a chair, staring hard at the ground as if it had done him a personal wrong. What was this mysterious sound that Wyoming could possibly be hearing at night? Was it the tell tale scratching of a 'monster in the closet?' Somehow, Wash didn't think so.

2300 passed by on the digital clock…then 2310…2315…2325…

Wash had almost fallen asleep when Wyoming gave a small gasp. "There it is. There's the sound," he whispered. Wash strained his ears.

"It sounds like…singing?" He pointed to the closet that Wyoming rarely used. "It's coming from there." Wash slowly approached the door, turned the knob, and pulled it open.

The other Freelancers were woken by screams, a door slamming open, and the screech of a high-pitched song that was caroling in an annoyingly cheerful fashion. Wash and Wyoming crashed into a wall next to Tex's room in their attempt to escape the noise coming from Wyoming's room. There were many puzzled looks from the guys…and many laughs from the girls.

"Got monsters in your closet, Wyoming?!" South cackled as she rolled on the ground, admiring her handiwork as Wash and Wyoming stared reproachfully at her, the song still ringing through the hallway.

_It's a small world after all!_

_It's a small world after all!_

_It's a small world after all!_

_It's a small…small…world!_

"Damnit, South! This means war!"

* * *

_Once again, send some requests my way, and I'll be sure to write them. The second chapter should be up soon!_

_Sincerely, _

_anna1795_


	2. 2 Paperwear and underwork

_Many thanks to all of you reviewers for your kind comments and suggestions. Here's the next chapter!_

* * *

If there was one thing that the Freelancers hated more than anything, it was paperwork. Every mission, every training session, every weapons check and usage, required the evil process of writing a report BY HAND, reviewing it, having at least three other people review it and sign off on it, and then handed directly to the Counselor or the Director. It was a time-consuming process, and there was a deadline for it. If anything were to happen to the paperwork that a Freelancer had worked on…

"South, have you finished that last mission report yet?" Carolina asked over dinner one evening, and South Dakota ran her fingers through her hair in exasperation.

"I just need you and one other person to read over it before I can turn it in. I've already got Maine's signature," she pointed her thumb over at the silent agent.

"Let me see," Carolina demanded, and she started skimming over the report.

"I'll have a look at it when you're done, Carolina," North said as he shoveled mashed potatoes and meatloaf into his mouth, then drank a gulp of coffee to wash it down. Carolina skimmed through the pages and signed the paperwork, then handed it to North. Just as North started skimming through it, York came by, bumped into North's armor…and spilled his entire tray of food over the report.

The reaction could have been much worse. For the first minute, South just stared at her pristine report, now ruined, with a horrorstruck expression. A weird gurgling noise came out of her throat at the sight of gravy, ketchup, and meat chunks dripping onto the floor from the papers that North still held in his hand. She was about to let out a bloodcurdling scream when York and her brother started chuckling, then outright cackling.

"What's…so…funny?" she asked slowly, eyes glimmering dangerously.

"Your…face!" York wheezed, and he and North both fell on the ground, holding their sides as they laughed at South's horror. She immediately recomposed herself before glaring at the two of them.

"Do you have any idea how long I had to work on that report?!" she yelled, and they stopped laughing. "I had to work for five hours, print it out, and then my computer crashed! That was my ONLY copy, and that report was due tonight!"

"South, that wasn't the actual report," North said calmly to his incensed sister.

"Now, I have to try and find ano-what?"

"We've got your actual copy right here," York said, pulling a folded paper packet from inside his shirt. "Maine was kind enough to make us a copy when you asked him to read over your report." He handed it to her, and she took it with trembling hands.

"Consider it payback for that joke you played on Wyoming and Wash," North chuckled. South didn't move or say anything. It looked like she wasn't breathing. "South, are you there?" North snapped his fingers in front of her face, and South toppled to the side in a dead faint."

"You'd think that she'd be happy to see her report," York remarked as North tried to revive his sister with panic and Maine chuckled at his deal in the prank.

South may not have been entirely impressed by the report incident…nor were the rest of the Freelancer girls, for that matter. They certainly made their displeasure known the next morning.

* * *

"York, can you give me a hand in here?" North called from his shower stall. York wrapped a towel around his middle as he exited the shower.

"North, you know that I like you and all, but don't you think that we should take things slow first before the shower?" York called back jokingly, laughing at North's spluttering.

"Dude, that's- no, I'm not talking about that. Someone's been messing with my shampoo!"

"Really?" York drawled, and Maine came over to hear more of the conversation. "How so?"

"Well, I can't get my hand out of my hair now," North said, showing his upper body. His left hand was stuck firmly to his blonde hair with a white liquid substance that COULD be mistaken for shampoo…

"Alright, wrap a towel around your middle and come on out," York instructed the woebegone North Dakota. "I wonder whose BRIGHT idea it was to replace your shampoo with super glue."

Awkwardly, North tied a towel around his middle with only one hand and came out of his shower, then bent down so that York could reach up and try to free North's hand. It was not easy, and the glue refused to come away from the poor man's hair…or York's hands.

"It must be that extra-strength superglue that the girls stole from the Director's office when they made that sundae (see "Red vs Blue: Candy Men")," York grunted as he tried to wrench his hands free from North's hair, and was met with a yell of complaint from the blonde. "Maine, don't you have some mess remover back in your room?"

Maine responded with a grunt of affirmation.

"Well, let's sneak out to your room and grab it."

"Don't you think it's going to look kind of awkward with all three of us sneaking back to Maine's room?" North pointed out. Indeed, all three men only had towels wrapped around their waists in terms of modesty.

"…Fair point," York conceded. "Maine, you go to your room and grab the ointment, and North and I will stay here." Maine made to make a noise of protest but, seeing the pleading looks their faces, thought better of it. He simply went to the door and left.

A loud thud had North and York doing a sort of three-legged crab walk to the door to see Maine lying flat on his back on the floor right outside the men's locker room. "Maine, are you-" North started to ask as he crossed the threshold of the doorway and fell on his front, bringing York with him as he fell. The three men lay in a pile on the greased floor as people began crowding around…very specifically, women.

CT wolf-whistled at the sight of the half-naked men on the floor. "Whoo-ee! Aint this a treat, girls?" she asked the other Freelancers, who chuckled at the men's expense.

"It's sweet that you guys remembered we were yaoi fans!" Tex called from where she was leaning on the wall for support as she laughed. The laughter of the women rang through the hallway as the guys attempted and failed to get up off the floor, grumbling about taking revenge.

* * *

_This chapter is dedicated to BIG Z1776, Freelancer Mississippi, Darkrexbeta, and EvilNickelbackObsessedTechy._


	3. 3 The Stars Come Out

_I'm loving all of your suggestions! Your reviews make me so happy, it's like X-mas every time I get a notice that someone reviewed one of my works! :3_

_Here's a a request prank. Dedicated to pepergirl001, BIG Z1776, Freelancer Mississippi, and all you reviewers our there._

* * *

Agent Texas, possibly the most badass, mysterious Freelancer, and one of the strangest hobbiests in her free time. It wasn't like she was the only Freelancer to have a hobby, but the others seemed so ordinary in comparison. North had his comic books, Carolina would be in the gym, and Maine would be silently knitting or crocheting in a dark corner somewhere like a crazy demonic grandmother.

Texas, on the other hand, would spend hours of her time stargazing. She had at least twenty-three books on the subject of astronomy, astrology, and other various studies of the cosmos. She had a room with a window to look out into the starry vastness of space, and had a telescope always set up so that she could look out the window and identify constellations as they passed.

Of course, there came the day when Tex went to look through her telescope one day and could not see a thing out of it. Straightening up, she rubbed her eye and then the eyepiece to make sure that nothing was blocking her vision. Determining that nothing was wrong with either, she walked around to see that someone had attacked the lens cap while she was gone. Grumbling, she removed the cap and flew backwards as a paper snake sprung from where the lens cap had been storing it, waiting to strike. Tex cursed loudly and stormed out of her room to confront who she suspected had set up the prank.

Texas' suspicion furthered as she was stalking through the hallways. She had her helmet off, and several soldiers were snickering as she passed them, despite the evil glare that she delivered them in return. What could have happened to her face that had people…laughing? She rushed over to a reflective surface and gave a roar of rage before she charged down the hallway.

York gave a yelp and fled from the rampaging Freelancer, abandoning Maine, Wash, and North as he took off at a panicked run, waving his arms in comical panic as Tex chased him like a rabid bull, complete with angry foam at the mouth. North could only shake his head.

"I told him that pranking Tex was a bad idea. I told him that she hated snakes," the blonde lamented. "I told him that she'd hate the idea of mascara on her eyepiece. Did he listen?"

"York never passes up the opportunity of a good prank," Wash pointed out, while Maine gave a hiss of agreement. "And he'll face the consequences for it."

* * *

Texas never did manage to catch York that day. But when the bottom of York's Styrofoam bowl of soup fell out and splattered all across his shirt a week later, there was no question as to who the culprit was.

* * *

_Keep the reviews rolling, people. I love hearing from you._

_anna1795_


	4. 4 Birthday Surprises

_This chapter is dedicated to Freelancer Mississippi, Reaper10119, and X for their suggestions. _

* * *

Carolina was immediately suspicious of the cake that had been left at her doorstep like an unwanted child, sans basket and carefully written note about taking care of 'Finster'. The cake itself was meticulously tall and rectangular, covered in a flawless layer of white frosting (she checked, and it was not the super glue that she and the other girls had stolen from the Director's office), and precisely written words saying 'Happy Birthday, Carolina.' She had never told anybody when her birthday was, so how could anybody know? Carefully picking up the cake on its platter like she was carrying a grenade, she walked slowly to the Freelancer rec room and set the cake down on the middle table. Some of the other Freelancers on break came over to inspect the confectionary creation.

"Somebody had way too much time on their hands," North remarked, shaking his head.

"Was there a note?" York asked Carolina, who gave him a murderous glance.

"If there was a note, would I be asking people if they had made this cake?" the red-head hissed, and York backed off, going off to stand silently in the 'Corner of Shame'.

"We have some time," Wash remarked as he eyed the cake hungrily. "Are you gonna cut it and eat it?" Shrugging, Carolina took out her combat knife drove it into the center of the cake.

The dessert exploded with a loud bang and a shower of shiny colors. Carolina gave a surprised squawk and dove out of the way as pieces of frosting and…_cardboard_ went flying in all directions. Little bits of a rubber filament floated through the air from the balloon that Carolina had unceremoniously punctured when getting ready to cut her 'cake'. Confetti floated through the air in lazy spirals, though Carolina wasn't really seeing them.

Wash had taken a piece of the thin cardboard covered with frosting and begun sucking on it with apparent delight. "Who could have done such a horrible thing, I wonder?"

Carolina paused for only a moment when the door opened to admit a curious Agent Maine. The mischevious glint in his eyes was enough proof for her to charge at Maine. The gigantic man took one look at the rampaging Freelancer and bolted back down the hallway from whence he came, Carolina shrieking like a banshee about what she was going to do when she caught him.

"Nice going, Wash," North said sarcastically, wiping cardboard and frosting from his face. "You gave Maine away."

"It's not my fault that he's the worst prankster ever. Of all time."

"Go stand in the Corner!"

"Aww…"

* * *

_Poor Wash. He does not like the Corner of Shame...at least York has company now. _

_More is on the way! Keep reviewing, please!_

_anna1795_


	5. Chapter 5

_Sorry I'm late with this one, guys. Been having some stuff go on, but I'm getting back into the swing of things. _

___Shout out to Freelancer Mississippi for providing the idea for this prank._

* * *

Maine had been extremely cautious about his person since he had dangerously pranked Carolina with the "exploding cake." Even a few days after the incident, he would spin around while he was walking to make sure that Carolina wasn't coming up behind him, and he never volunteered to train against her. If he had the opportunity, Maine would sneak away so that he could continue his knitting in peace. Yes, Maine was an avid knitter. He found that the actions of the thread sliding over the metal needle in specific hand motions and patterns calmed his mind and helped him keep a steady focus. Not very many other people knew that it was his hobby, and he was determined to keep it that way.

Maine guessed that Carolina first struck when one day, when he went to the public computers to find the pattern for a snowflake-themed throw, and he logged into the computer, all the text that greeted him when he had logged on-

_Välkomna till Knitters hamn!_

-was in Swedish.

Maine tried to move the mouse so that he could adjust the settings and change the language back to English, but the cursor remained stubbornly where it had been originally on the screen. Increasingly infuriated, Maine angrily shoved the mouse back and forth along the kitten-themed mouse pad with no effect.. He turned the thing over and saw a thick wad of duct tape blocking the sensor to allow the mouse to work. Meticulously, Maine carefully pealed the tape off of the sensor and tried to place the mouse back down, when another problem arose.

The tape was double-sided.

Giving an infuriated roar, Maine started rolling about on his rolling office chair to try and remove the stubborn tape from both his fingers and the mouse. It eventually left the mouse, but seemed to have an emotional connection with his fingers. Using his mouth, Maine attempted to get the sticky strip of plastic evil from his fingers, and only succeeded in having it attack the side of his face. Maine froze. The beginnings of a beard had begun due to his neglecting of his razor, and a healthy amount of stubble had popped up along his jawline. Maine sincerely did not want to rip the duct tape from the side of his face and give this really weird look that he had run out of shaving cream and had only gotten part of his face. Then again, he couldn't just walk around with duct tape on his face though.

There was only one option.

* * *

Carolina gave a slight smirk as she vented into a full-length body bag with her bare fists as a roar of pain and fury rang through the ship.. South, wiping off her face with her towel at the end of a workout, handed Carolina a picture two minutes later.

"Thank FILSS," she said to the red-head, who examined the picture of Maine with a weird rectangular stripe of puckered red skin along a shadowed jawline. "She managed to get that from the computer's camera."

"I'll be sure to," Carolina thanked the other female agent, storing the picture away for later. You never knew when you might need some good blackmail material.

* * *

_Many thanks to all of your reviews. More is on the way!_

_anna1795_


	6. 6 The Tides have Turned

_If you are reading this, then you have made it to the right spot. I have submitted two chapters to you wonderful people today for your enjoyment. Let the games continue!_

_Special thanks for the idea for part of the prank goes to Freelancer Mississippi and At335. The rest of you have not gone unnoticed, I promise! _

* * *

York certainly was surprised when, one morning, Tex approached him on her way back from her evening training session just as York was heading to his own.

"Hold on," she growled. "I need to talk to you for a second."

"It's not another prank, is it?" he asked warily, leaning away slightly as if worried she might be contagious. Tex smirked.

"If it was, you'd already be incapacitated," she sneered. "No, I need your help pulling one off."

"I thought that we were kind of at war with each other. You know, boys versus girls."

"York, I'm being serious!" Texas cried in exasperation.

"So am I," he retorted, then leaned against the wall. "Alright, let's say that I agree to help you. Who would we be pranking?"

"I was originally thinking Carolina-"

"She'd string us up by our toes and hang us upside down until our heads exploded from all the blood flow."

"Then I thought about the Director-"

"Do you have a death wish?"

"I finally decided on pranking South."

York smacked his head against his forehead. "Great," he muttered. "I'm working with someone who's delusional, bloodthirsty, AND suicidal. You realize that South will make life hell for you if she finds out that you pranked her?"

Texas gave a snort. "She's not going to find out. That's why I need you to help. I already have a plan set up for the prank. I need you to simply open up South's room for me and…" she whispered the plan into his ear so that nobody would be able to hear her.

"You know," York finally said after a moment. "That's so crazy, it just might work."

"Glad you think so," Tex smiled. "Oh, and I've already got somebody mixing up the stuff that you're going to put in there. I know you won't need the code to get into South's room. You'll find the supplies by the guys' locker room after your done. It needs to be done before tonight, though. I'll make sure that South doesn't get near her room before then."

"Done," York agreed. "Revenge is very sweet."

* * *

Later, the Freelancers (sans South, who had a late afternoon training session and workout) were all relaxing in their lounge room in fatigues. Wash and Wyoming were sitting on the floor, watching a movie and leaning against the couch. North lay stretched out on the couch, a thick book in his hands as his eyes flew across the pages of information. Carolina watched them all intently, especially Maine as he sat knitting in a corner with a missing rectangular strip of hair from the side of his face. York was simply watching the room from his position against the wall, and Texas sat, tense in her seat as though expecting an explosion.

Suddenly, there came a scream of rage from the floor above and the thundering sound of a single set of rampaging feet. Texas, York, and North all jumped, looking to the door.

"See ya!" North shouted, vaulting over the other side of the couch. The other Freelancers whipped around to see the three prankers try to shove themselves through the doorway at the same time and get stuck. A shout carried through the hallway.

"YOU'RE DEAD MEAT, NORTH!"

"Get out!" Texas shouted to the other two. "Get out, get out, get out!"

"Working on it!" York screamed back at her, before they managed to collapse through the doorway. The stampeding South was getting closer.

"Run for it!" North urged the other two, and they scrambled to their feet and started sprinting in the other direction of the incoming South. They managed to get down the hallway before South stopped in the doorway of the lounge room.

The remaining Freelancers had to utilize all of their willpower not to burst out laughing at South's appearance. The angry woman had just gotten out of the shower and had apparently started applying body lotion. The reason for her anger was quite evident, as South's hair was the most ludicrous shade of BUBBLE GUM PINK and her skin was a lovely, SUNFLOWER YELLOW. She looked like some weird candy girl or a plastic doll with faulty manufacturing.

"Where'd they go?!" South demanded angrily. Nobody said anything, but Wash pointed in the direction that North, York, and Texas has run. Without another word, South tore off in the direction that Wash had directed her.

"You can't keep a secret very well, old chap," Wyoming pointed out to Wash as screams from North, York, Texas, and their pursuer rang through the halls of the _Mother of the Invention_. Wash didn't say anything, only standing up. Maine gave a sharp hiss.

"I know, I know," Wash complained. "Corner of Shame."

* * *

_Huh...guess they got found out. Poor, poor Wash._

_He will not be the only one that suffers through the Corner of Shame._

_He's just the most fun to pick on at the moment._

_For all you chemistry and biology people out there, the reason that South's skin turned yellow was because North put iodine (the health kind, not the deadly chemical kind) into her body lotion. The bubble gum pink hair...I leave that to you people._

_And continue to the next chapter, if you dare._

_anna1795_


	7. 7 Prank Calls

_If you are reading this and you just clicked that very handy chapter skip button right next to the title of my fanfiction, go to the previous chapter. This is one of two chapters that I have submitted for your enjoyment today, and I would LOVE for you people to read both of them, please._

_We continue with a series of pranks caused by one person. Hope you like them. _

_PS Let's assume that there are phones on the Mother of Invention, for the sake of the funnies._

* * *

Carolina picked up the phone in her room. "Hello?" she asked.

"_Ma'am, this is the maintenance department. Is your personal refrigerator running?_"

Carolina looked to the innocent black square appliance in the corner of her room. "Yes. Why?"

"_Well then, you'd better go and catch it!_" the man on the other end said excitedly, then slammed down on his receiver and ended the call.

Carolina stood there for a moment, confused. Then, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"He. Will. Pay."

* * *

Maine picked up the phone in his room. He gave a hiss of greeting.

"_Yes, hi. I'd like to order a number one combo with extra pickles and marshmallow cream, and an extra jumbo set of French Fries with soy sauce-_"

Maine cut off the person on the other end with a growl.

"_This IS the Mister Chang's Chinamerican Hamburger Pagoda, right?_"

Maine gave a hiss of negativity.

"_Well, I'd like to continue my order then. Now then, I'd also like to have eight orders of the soy dogs with wasabi and relish, hold the hold the mayonaise-_"

Maine lost his patience and slammed the headset down on the receiver.

* * *

Texas picked up the phone in her room.

"_This is the song that never ends-_"

Texas slammed down the phone before the awful tune could continue.

* * *

North picked up the phone in his room.

"_I'm pregnant with your child_."

North gawked for a moment before his mind comprehended that the person on the other hand was male.

He set the headset down shakily.

* * *

Washington picked up the phone in his room. "Hello?" he asked pleasantly.

"**_WASH, GO STAND IN THE CORNER_**!" Four different voices shouted at the same time, then four phones consecutively hung up.

"How did they know?" Wash wondered aloud at his prank as he headed to the lounge room to serve his punishment.

* * *

_It's not you, Wash, it's them... nah, it's you. _

_Please feel free to read and review! I love you all,_

_anna1795_


	8. 8 Never Prank the Pilot

_Another prank! This one goes to jboone93, At335, and Big Z1776 for their inspiration. _

* * *

Wyoming sauntered nonchalantly into the residence halls of the _Mother of Invention_, looking around for any signs of life. It was 2 in the afternoon; any sane person would be awake and active with duties aboard the warship. However, did we ever accept that Wyoming was completely sane?

Making sure that nobody was around, Wyoming manually unlocked every room, rustled inside with something, and exited before anybody could notice that he had been in there for a very long time. Every room in that hallway was entered and exited promptly, and Wyoming left with a dark chuckle and an evil smirk on his face, anticipating the prank to come.

_Later, at 2 in the morning…_

No one was ever supposed to wake up the pilots that occupied the _Mother of Invention_. It was an rule comparable to the 10 Commandments, if you wanted to compare. If there was to ever be a subheading to these commandments, it would be that if you valued your life, NEVER wake up 479er in the middle of the night for something short of an emergency.

At exactly 0200, precisely 42 alarm clocks went off simultaneously throughout the _Mother of Invention_, catapulting its residents out of bed with mixed shouts.

"JESUS CHRIST!"

"MOTHER F-"

"DAMN!"

People poured out into the hallway in panic and annoyance, or were searching their rooms for the source of the noise. "I hate that!" York spat out as he rammed his head against the wall to dissipate the sounds of alarm clocks ringing in his ears. "Make it stop!"

The clocks turned off at once with the sickening crunch of one of their fellows. 479r walked out of her room, bedecked in fleece pants and a GRIFBALL t-shirt, with a murderous expression on her face.

"When I find out who did this," she whispered, "I will personally chuck that son of a bitch out of my Pelican in the middle of deep space." She tossed the remains of the alarm clock to the floor and stalked back into her room, Wyoming laughing his ass off as she went.

* * *

_The next day…_

"Mates, can you help me please?" Wyoming begged as the others left 479r's Pelican after their latest mission, while Wyoming remained on the ship.

"Sorry, Wyoming," Washington called back to the white Freelancer. "You shouldn't have pranked 479r!"

Wyoming sat as if glued to his seat…mainly because the sticky super glue belonging to the Director was trying to seep into the spaces in his armor from where they caked the seat and the backboard of 479r's otherwise pristine Pelican.

* * *

_More to come. Thanks for the positive feedback! Love you all, and happy holidays!_

_anna1795_


	9. 9 Squeaktoys vs Squeakboys

_Alright, number 9! I see that this series is becoming very popular... YAY! :D_

_Anyways, onto the prank! This should be very familiar to some of you..._

* * *

"Are you sure that this is such a good idea?" Carolina asked uncertainly as she helped CT ease the gigantic air tank against the wall of the storage room, while the brown-armored agent attached a rubber hose to the nozzle of the tank and set the other end in a hole in the ceiling.

"Yeah, I'm positive," CT answered confidently, yet whispered the answer for fear of disturbing  
the meeting up above. "I saw this in an old sitcom once. It'll work."

"I saw that sitcom, too," Carolina pointed out. "And the guy was a physicist with a weird accent. WE'RE not physicists."

"Nope," CT agreed. "We're female super-soldiers with too much time on our hands and a need for revenge. Hand me the duct tape."

The red head handed her friend the roll of zebra-striped duct tape, which CT tore off silently and liberally applied to the area surrounding the hose in the ceiling, aming sure that it was secure in its placement. "Let's turn it on," CT said eagerly, and they both twisted the nozzle of the air tank. A small hiss escaped as a gush of air rushed up the tube and into the room above. "This is going to be wiot," CT cackled in a fair impression of Barry Kripke. Chuckling, the two girls retreated from the supply room below the Director's debriefing room.

* * *

In the room above, the Director was debriefing all of the male agents in an undercover assignment they were given.

"You will each deploy to these five locations; Agent Florida has already been dispatched and will fill you in on the-" the Director cut off with a choke as his voice suddenly rose half an octave. The agents inclined their heads as the Director coughed to rid his throat of a nonexistent blockage that could have contributed to his vocal pitch.

"Director, is there anything wrong?" the Counselor started to ask, then abruptly stopped speaking when his voice came out as little more than a mouse's squeak. The Freelancer boys chuckled, but they all stopped as their vocal pitches came out.

"I can't believe this!" York cried indignantly, sounding utterly ridiculous as though his voice had been remixed to two octaves above its normal range. Nobody was unaffected by the helium leak into the meeting room. Even Maine's growls and roars sounded like a kitten's attempts at vocalization.

"FILSS, run a scan on the gaseous content of this room," the Director ordered the ship's "dumb" AI.

"**Please repeat your request**," the female AI responded monotonously.

"Run a scan on the air of my meeting room!" The Director almost screamed in frustration, except his voice only continued to rise in pitch.

"**I am sorry**," FILSS replied, "**Your vocal patterns do not match my records. I cannot process your request.**" The AI went offline as she was no longer needed.

* * *

In the cafeteria, the ODSTs of the _Mother of Invention_ laughed uproariously as chaos reigned in the Director's meeting room, which Carolina was projecting from a hidden microphone and through her armor's own audio speakers.

"You really outdid yourselves this time," South chuckled as a strangle scream rang through the microphone that was found by Washington.

"_CT, I FOUND THE NOZZLE. WE'RE GOING TO KILL YOU!_"

The two prankster Freelancers raised their arms in triumph as the soldiers around them started clapping in congratulations.

* * *

_Credit for this prank goes to: Jboone93, BIG Z1776, At335, and CBS' " The Big Bang Theory"_

_As always, read, respond, and request! Happy holidays!_

_anna1795_


	10. Chapter 10

_If you are reading this, you are at the right spot! Part 1 of 2 of today's update. Enjoy!_

* * *

For the Freelancers, their days were packed with training, education, training, working out, training, experimenting with new equipment, training, eating, training…

Did I happen to mention training?

At the end of the day (or the beginning of the new one, whichever you prefer), the most that anybody wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep until they were woken up by FILSS' insistent alarm ringing in their ears, and the cycle would continue.

Then came the day when someone decided to take advantage of the Freelancers' tiredness…

* * *

North sat up in bed suddenly, and he had no idea why. He had JUST gotten out of his armor and had settled down for the night, so why was he still awake?

Then, North's skin began to twitch, and he began scratching all over the place. He kept itching himself to alleviate the annoyance pervading his skin, but to no effect except to exacerbate his itch. Getting desperate, North ran out into the hallway to try and get to the guy's locker room and the showers. He ran into somebody else in a mad dash in the same direction. Scrambling up, North saw Wyoming with red splotches all over his face and upper body, and he was guessing that Wyoming's rubber duck fleece pants obscured further signs of desperate itching.

"You…too?" North gasped as he scrambled up and scratched at his arm. Wyoming snarled and nodded. Together, they both started heading towards the showers so that they could get the itchy powder from their clothing and skin.

On the way, who should they meet but Agent Washington, with no sign of itchy discomfort at all as he casually walked towards his room.

"WASH!" The two suffering agents screamed. "GO TO THE CORNER!"

Washington jumped, startled and with a deer-in-the-headlights look. "What?" he asked, sorely confused. "I didn't even do any-"

"NOW!" Wyoming and North shouted over Wash's weak protest. The blonde man gave a huge sigh, hung his head, and plodded off towards the Corner of Shame.

Watching from the sidelines as North and Wyoming continued on their way, a low hiss escaped the thin crack in the door that was barely opened .

* * *

"Very good work there, my friend," Agent Florida walked up to Maine, who grumbled and turned to his partner in crime. "I suppose you remembered my equipment?" Florida asked, rubbing a hand through graying hair. Maine tossed a metal tin to Florida, who caught it deftly in one hand. Messy black marker labeled the can as Itching Powder.

"Those two will have a hard time getting it off," Florida remarked, while Maine gave the older man a punch in the arm. "What? What did I- oh." His face flushed bright red with embarrassment at what he said.

* * *

_Elsewhere, in another time…_

"Bow chicka wow wow!" Tucker suddenly blurted out randomly, clapping a hand to his mouth. Luckily, he was alone on patrol.

"Huh," he mused. "I could have sworn I heard someone say something…eh," the Blue soldier shrugged, continuing on his patrol.

* * *

_Credit for this story goes to: X, Darkrexbeta, jboone93_

_Read on to Chapter 11...if you dare. XD_

_anna1795_


	11. 11 Unexpected Enemies

_If you are reading this and used the chapter skip button right next to the title, go back a chapter. I submit two chapters for your enjoyment today, and I think you might want to read BOTH of them. Just what I'm thinking, though. Anyways, here's chapter 11!_

* * *

Texas grimaced as she entered the girl's bathroom and heard CT hurling somewhere. "What was for breakfast?" she called out to the unfortunate agent.

"…Milk," CT replied after a minute, before returning to emptying her stomach of its contents.

Carolina rushed in at the moment and headed over to one of the stalls, joining CT in getting sick.

"You too on the milk?" Texas asked Carolina as she brushed her hair in the mirror.

"Bite me," Carolina snarled. "I want to know who got that disgusting stuff into my milk."

"Don't ask me," Texas responded. "I haven't been downstairs all morning." She checked her watch. "Hurry up. We're supposed to report up to training in five minutes."

"I'll be there if I don't die first," CT groaned, wiping her mouth. She thought about something. "Carolina, have you ever had milk of magnesia?"

"Last time I had it, I had to go to the hospital," Carolina responded weakly. "My stomach couldn't handle it."

"Same with me," CT mused aloud. "I think someone found out and slipped some into our milk this morning."

"Who would have access to those kinds of files?" Carolina asked, but CT could only respond with a shrug as she stood up shakily.

"Come on, or we're going to be late," she said to Carolina. "The Director won't take excuses, remember?"

* * *

Carolina limped into her room some hours later, done with a full day of training, stress, and trying to regain her #1 spot from Texas (with no success, per usual). She still had reports to finish before bed, and she crawled over to her rolling office chair and collapsed in it.

A loud honk sounded when she sat down, and Carolina rocketed up from her seat with a yelp of fright. Shaking, she flipped over her padded chair to stare at the source of the noise: a bull horn taped to the bottom with zebra-themed duct tape. Glowering in anger, Carolina kicked her chair over to the wall with a scream of rage, and the bull horn sounded again.

"I HATE MY LIFE!"

* * *

"Was the infiltration and implantation a success?" the Director asked the soldier in white ODST armor, who saluted smartly.

"Yes, sir," the soldier responded crisply. "There was no sign that either Agents Carolina or Connecticut suspected anyone outside of the Freelancers slipped milk of magnesia into their drinks or taped bullhorns to the bottom of their chairs."

"Excellent," the Director shook hands with the soldier over a blue plastic bottle (labeled "highly laxative") and a roll of zebra-themed duct tape. "Thank you for carrying out my orders, soldier."

"My pleasure, sir," the ODST responded before turning smartly and leaving the matter in the office to be forgotten.

* * *

_Credit for this story goes to: __Drummerette, __Reaper10119,_ and _Anon_

_Short and sweet story. The next one will be longer, as I am working on a Christmas chapter. Hope you can wait for another day or so. In the meantime, you know the drill: read, review, and request!_

_Sincerely,_

_anna1795_


	12. 12 Merry Christmas, Agent Washington

_As the holidays roll in, we of the prankster universe try to post 'holiday specials' to amuse the hundreds of our viewers out there, to show our appreciation of the holiday spirit. This title may seem similar to the Peanuts Classic, "Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown." Aside from the Christmas tree, there are absolutely no similarities between that classic and this story. Without further ado, please enjoy!_

* * *

'Twas the day before Christmas, and all through the _Mother of Invention_, nobody was resting in their preparations for the holidays. Everyone was doing their last-minute Christmas shopping and ordering cheap gifts for outlandish prices to gift to their friends and family. Wyoming had almost gone crazy from all the requests for smuggled goods, and all the girls turned up with bits of wrapping paper, glitter, and ribbon in their hair because they were the only people on the ship who could decently wrap a gift (and keep a secret).

However, one dilemma came up rather quickly that needed to be addressed…

"What do you MEAN, you've never had a Christmas tree?" York shouted at Wash, who ducked his head as if to dodge the words.

"I grew up in Utah," Wash pointed out. "Far Eastern Utah. Where there are no trees."

"Well, how did you celebrate Christmas?" South asked.

"We decorated a tumbleweed and put presents under it," Wash explained with a shrug. "It always blew away, so we never had really fancy ornaments."

"Didn't you at least burn a holiday Yule log?"

"Oh, you mean our annual holiday cactus toasting?" Wash asked, and South face-palmed.

"Dude, you have lived a very sheltered life," Texas said, shaking her head sadly.

"I won't tell you how we celebrated Easter, then."

* * *

An hour later, North and York took an excursion down to the nearest planet with 479r, and started looking through droves of evergreen trees.

"Good idea with distracting Wash by having him watch '_Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown_,'" North conceded to York, who gave a mock bow as they started looking for a proper Christmas tree.

"My pleasure. Now, what are the parameters that the Director set for us for the tree?" he asked. North pulled out a slip of paper and shook it open, his eyes becoming even more disbelieving as he continued to read.

"The tree can't be any higher than six feet, can't have more than 40 branches, must be entirely bug free, and have a 64 degree tilt at the top…what the hell?!"

"It's the Director, North," York pointed out. "Don't try and make sane the crazy."

"Fair point."

They continued searching for a tree for the next six hours, going through endless rows of various evergreens, trying to find the most pathetic specimen that they could pass as a Christmas tree.

"This one?"

"Too many branches."

"How about-"

"58 degree tilt, not 64."

"What-"

"Beetle infestation."

It seemed that no tree fit the bill, until they had walked for endless miles and had gotten to the very last tree in their row.

"You know?" York said, staring at the tree in front of him. "I think this HAS to be it."

"You sure?" North asked, reaching for his back.

"Positive," York nodded. With a flourish, North grabbed Maine's stolen Bruteshot from his back and started hacking at the tree. "First, do you have a grudge against the tree? Second, how did you get Maine's Bruteshot?"

"Doesn't matter," North grunted as he slammed the blade into the tree trunk with a vengeance, smiling triumphantly as the puny evergreen gave a snap and fell over into the snow. "Come on, we have a long walk back."

"What the hell?!" York complained as he hoisted their 'Christmas tree.' "Why can't we just ask 479r to fly us back?"

"Oh, I covered her Pelican with sticky notes that had smiley faces on them a few weeks ago because I was bored," North responded in a matter-of-fact voice. "It was a stretch to get her to fly us down here and wait for us to fly back."

* * *

"You got the catalog that I asked for?" Texas asked as Florida and Wyoming came into her room.

"You mean these?" Florida held out the box in his arms for Texas to examine.

"Nope," she decided soundly, shoving the box back. "Wrong ones."

"Come on!" Florida complained. "These are healthy-"

"We're NOT giving poor, sheltered Agent Washington thousands of boxes of candy in those catalogs!"

Florida sniffed and backed away, while Texas looked in Maine's box. "Or knitting catalogs."

"All the other soldiers grabbed the Christmas catalogs!" Florida complained. "How are we going to order him a gift in time?"

"By adding onto someone's workload. Come on," Texas beckoned, and they went in search of a certain smuggler.

* * *

"No."

"Come on, Wyoming!" South hissed at the white Freelancer, who had his arms folded. "Can't you get this list up as a priority?"

"I said no, South," Wyoming snapped at her. "I already have seventeen other orders to fill without having to worry about our dear Agent Washington truly experiencing a traditional Christmas."

"Wyoming," Texas came up. "If we don't make this as traditional as possible, then we're going to have to make sure that Washington has a cactus and a tumbleweed on hand so that he CAN have his version of Christmas."

"…I see your point," Wyoming conceded, pulling out a tablet. "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

Carolina floated through the air seamlessly, looping shiny tinsel and decorations onto the beams of the ceiling and taping it along the walls. She had asked for the artificial gravity to be turned off temporarily so that she could help decorate the hall. Appropriately, music from "The Nutcracker" rang through FILSS' speakers.

CT came floating up with an armful of ornaments and did a pirouette in midair, twirling around Carolina playfully as she hung the ornaments on the strings of tinsel already strung up. Carolina did a graceful front flip and caught two ornaments, continuing to string them up. Now, the theme from "Sleeping Beauty" was playing throughout the ship.

CT and Carolina continued their anti-gravity ballet, shortly joined by Maine. He began doing some unseemly twirls and flips, pinning paper snowflakes to the ceiling. The three agents finished the decorating as they continued to dance in midair, having the time of their lives.

Right at the finale of the song…

"INCOMING!" Someone shouted, and a rather pathetic specimen of an evergreen collided with CT, just as the gravity was turned back on.

"Sorry!" York apologized to CT, who shoved off the tree that was attempting to crush her. Maine walked over to North, slapped him upside the head, and retrieved his Bruteshot.

* * *

"What do you think?" North asked, displaying the Christmas tree that he and Florida had decorated. The other Freelancers gaped.

"It's so…" Wyoming started.

"Well…" Texas trailed off.

"That looks like crap," South was kind and spoke what everyone was thinking. "Why couldn't we have an ACTUAL tree?"

"Director's orders, South," North replied sheepishly, while York came over and experimentally poked the tree. The five-foot-eleven plant tipped dangerously, weighed under with a total of ten ornaments, one measly string of tinsel, a string of malfunctioning Christmas lights, and a bent foil star on the top. "It's the best that we could do, given the circumstances."

"What's everyone doing?" Wash asked, poking his head into the rec room. He froze when he saw the tree.

"Merry Christmas, Agent Washington!" Everyone shouted excitedly at the sight of their friend. The force from their shout caused the tree to keel over pathetically.

"Oh, you guys!" Wash exclaimed happily, tears brimming in his eyes. Everyone crowded around for a group hug. They ruffled his hair, clapped him on the back, and said their greetings (Tex and Carolina each gave him a kiss on the cheek). Presents were shoved into his arms while people started singing Christmas carols. Presents were unwrapped (Wash gawked at all the Christmas-themed socks and kitten pictures that everyone decided to get him since they didn't know what else he wanted), homemade eggnog was passed around (note to self: Wyoming spiked the eggnog), and they all sat around the tree and chatted jovially.

"So, Wash?" Carolina sidled up to the blonde man, who was slightly flushed from the alcoholic eggnog. "Is this Christmas better than back in Utah with a cactus roasting on an open fire?"

"This is the best Christmas ever," Wash agreed. "Of all time."

"A time of peace and happiness," North toasted them, holding up his coffee cup of eggnog.

"A time where we can live in harmony," CT added. "No prank wars or anything."

"Not…quite," Wash said hesitantly, and the others stared at him hesitantly. "We did observe ONE typical Christmas tradition back home that I set up while you guys were gone preparing this. Look up."

Everyone craned their necks to look at the ceiling, and gaped. The entire ceiling was covered in-

"MISTLETOE?" Everyone shouted, looking at the expanse of entire mistletoe bushes disguised in the rafters.

"Yep," Wash nodded. "Merry Christmas, you guys!"

Nobody said anything for a good long while. Then…

"WASH! GO STAND IN THE CORNER!"

Wash stood up and went to his Corner while everyone stared around, not very eager to kiss another person at the moment.

"A Merry Christmas to you too," Wash grumbled, while the pathetic excuse of a Christmas tree tipped over as he passed, itself mortified by Wash's prank.

* * *

_The Corner of Shame (aka the Corner of Wash) strikes again! Prank idea for this chapter comes from Freelancer Mississippi. _

_I wish you all a happy holidays around the world, and goodwill to all!_

_Sincerely,_

_anna1795_


	13. 13 I thought it was green with envy

_I'm alive, and I am feeling much better. So much better that I was able to whip this out! I hope that you all are enjoying your winter breaks and your new year. Here's number 13._

* * *

CT was NOT having a good day. Endless training, having nothing to eat, no decent coffee, and a good ass-kicking by both Carolina and Wyoming had done nothing to give her a sense of fulfillment about her day. Not only that, but 479-er had managed to pass the flu onto CT the day before, and her joints ached from the virus attacking her system. Yeah, not a good day at all. In Wash's words, it was the worst day ever. Of all time.

Now, as CT hopped out of the shower, got dressed, and went to dry her hair, she couldn't think how it could get any worse. She didn't even care that her thinking was practically inviting bad luck to waltz right through her open door.

CT flicked the switch for the hair dryer, and she coughed weakly as a cloud of powder came flying out of the air vent. It landed ALL over her, but especially clung to her wet hair and became quite pasty. She gave a groan of frustration and tried to get the white powder off of her with very little success. Her skin was blotchy and unattractive, and her hair looked like one of Maine's first knitting projects…not pretty at all.

"Oh, it is on," CT muttered as she made for the shower again to wash out the baby powder from the hair dryer.

* * *

Wyoming gave a yawn and stretched from his uncomfortable bed in his room, then shivered at the temperature. He specifically asked FILSS to keep his room at a comfortable 32 degrees centigrade. Why did it feel closer to 0 centigrade? Shivering and forced to leave his bed by the perplexing mystery, Wyoming got up to leave his room. His foot went sliding out from under him as soon as he set it down on the slick floor, and Wyoming went sailing across the room, crashing into his wall and knocking down the framed picture of he and South on their last day off nearly three months previous.

Wyoming felt the floor and shivered as goosebumps erupted up his arm. The entire floor of his living quarters was covered in a thin layer of ice. How had someone managed to ice his entire room and not have him notice?! Determined not to remain in the cold, Wyoming slipped and slid over to his door and wrenched it open determinedly.

White foam immediately obscured Wyoming's vision in a hiss as several fire extinguishers emptied their contents over the unfortunate Brit. Wyoming nearly cried as the foamy substance got tangled in his neatly combed hair and moustache, making it nearly unmanageable. He could vaguely hear a gurgled chuckling through the foam surrounding his ears.

"Nice look there, snowman," someone wheezed, and he could barely make out the form of CT walking down the hallway, doubling over to cough, hack, and wheeze before continuing on her way. Washington was unfortunate enough to walk up at that point.

"Wyoming, there's a fire in the kitchen that needs to be put out, and the staff asked me to send you up," the grey and yellow-armored Freelancer cackled at the sight of his unfortunate teammate. Wyoming's gaze smoldered through the foam.

"Wash, to your Corner!" With a groan and a sigh, Wash complied and went off to complete his punishment.

* * *

_Thanks to anomynous gamer and Freelancer Mississippi, as well as the guest and his brethren for their request to see Wash suffer some more. Poor Wash. _

_You know the drill: read, review, and request! Can't wait to hear what you guys want next!_

_Sincerely,_

_anna1795_


	14. 14 Mix and Match

Agent Washington woke up, determined that it was going to be a good day. The past few had been god-awful, what with being framed for pranks, always seeming to say the wrong things, and spending most of his time in the Corner of Shame. Nothing was going to break the smile off of his face today. He got up, dressed in his armor, brushed his teeth, and made for the mess to have a decent breakfast before tackling the day's to-do list.

However, as Wash sat down at the Freelancers' usual table, he was confronted with an odd situation. Wyoming was in the process of arguing with Carolina about some completely random topic, but it sounded like York and Texas were at each other's throats. Yet, the latter two agents were nowhere in sight. "Hello?" he spoke tentatively to the other two occupants of the table, who turned to look at him.

"What?" Carolina barked in Tex's voice.

"Go easy on him," Wyoming tried to calm the female in York's voice.

"Wait-huh-what?!" Wash exclaimed, holding his head. HE started to feel the barest twinges of a headache beginning to form.

"Honestly," 'Carolina' grumbled. "You need to keep up with the times."

"He can't help it," 'Wyoming said sadly, shaking his head. "Poor guy."

Wash could do nothing but sit there for a good thirty seconds in complete silence, then he got up with his breakfast and left the room without a word.

The trip back to the peace and solitude of his own room was broken when Florida walked past, his pristine blue armor covered in perfect orange polka-dots. "Why did this have to happen to me?" the blue-armored agent whispered in Wyoming's voice. "I'm not even a Broncos fan." Washington only stared after the agent, rubbed his eyes, stared again, and then ran back to his room. He opened the door quickly and shut it with a slam, locking it with the deadbolt and the chain across the door. He hurried over to his computer and sat down. Nothing could go wrong if he was working on reports for the Director/ watching cute kitten videos.

Washington had just opened up the software to begin writing his report on the last mission when his screen went entirely black. A banner of neon green letters began scrolling across the screen.

WARNING! YOU HAVE ENTERED A CLASSIFIED PROGRAM WITH AN INTENT TO ACCOMPLISH LEGITIMATE WORK. YOU MAY NOT PROCEED ANY FURTHER. THIS DELTA FORCE ONE PROGRAM HAS IMPLANTED A VIRUS INTO YOUR PERSONAL COMPUTER AND INTO YOUR ARMOR THAT WILL ACTIVATE SHOULD YOU PROCEED WITH YOUR ACTIONS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Wash gave a moan of frustration and hit his head against the screen. The black and green vanished to be replaced by his Turkish Van kitten wallpaper. Taking the warning seriously, Wash made a feeble attempt to open his internet browser and get onto Youtube. As soon as the website opened up, his screen flashed to black again, then started playing a clip from a rather…explicit parody of 'My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.' Red letters appeared in a shower of fireworks, flashing on the screen.

WARNING! YOU HAVE ENTERED A PUBLIC WEBSITE WITH AN INTENT TO SEARCH FOR MATERIAL DEEMED TO INNOCENT FOR YOUR AGE GROUP. YOU MAY NOT PROCEED ANY FURTHER WITHOUT WATCHING SIX HUNDRED MINUTES WORTH OF THE PROPER MATERIAL TO ACCOMMODATE FOR YOUR PREVIOUS VIEWINGS OF INNOCENT MATERIAL. THIS FIERYDEATHTILALLAREONE PROGRAM HAS IMPLANTED A VIRUS INTO YOUR PERSONAL COMPUTER AND INTO YOUR ARMOR THAT WILL ACTIVATE SHOULD YOU PROCEED WITH YOUR ACTIONS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Wash screamed, jumped out of his seat, and ran out the door. He didn't pay any attention to where he was actually going, only that he was running away from his problems like a coward. He finally knocked into a rather large obstacle, and bounced to the floor. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, then looked up. South peered down at him, her hands on her hips. Or rather, South's armor. It seemed rather small for the person that was currently the armor, who gave a short growl at Wash's error. Wash got up with a scream and ran in the opposite direction.

Wash ran into someone else, and they caught him by the arms before he could run away again. "Take it easy, Wash," North's deep, soothing voice spoke through his normal armor. "Take a few deep breaths. Everything's going to be fine." Wash eased his hyperventilation and was set back on his feet. "Now, do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

"Today is just awful!" Washington nearly screamed, and North listened patiently as Wash ranted about how people weren't wearing the right armor, his computer was busted, he had a virus in his suit…"And it's only ten o'clock in the morning!" Wash realized, ramming his head against the wall. "Can. This. Day. Get. Any. Worse?!"

North nearly busted his gut as he started laughing heartily. "Dude, we're all just messing with you today. It's payback for what you did to us at Christmas."

"…what?" Wash was SO confused! What was going on?

"Everyone was in on the joke. Even the Director played a part, I think," North mused. "South, Carolina, York, Maine, Wyoming, and Tex all switched their armor with someone else. Wyoming's probably swimming in Maine's armor and South's in Tex's armor. I put saram wrap on Florida's door so that he was covered in orange polka-dots. Theta, Delta, and Sigma were let into your computer by the Director, and I guess they decided to troll you."

"And what about you?" Wash demanded, pointing a finger at North. "What have YOU done that could have possibly made my day worse?"

"Me?" North asked innocently, pointing to himself. "Nothing. I didn't want to give you too much grief today."

"Oh, yes, I suppose that I should be grateful," Wash said sarcastically, watching as a few ODSTs scratched their heads as to why 'Carolina' sounded like Tex and 'York' sounded like Carolina.

"NORTH!" Someone screamed as they started running up the hallway. South's voice came out of Tex's armor as she ran towards her brother, dripping in glue. Wyoming started running up as well, a handheld razor hanging awkwardly from his face as it hung from a few strands of the Director's industrial strength super glue.

"Whoops," North scratched his head as the two agents ran towards him. "I forgot. I put glue on your razor and a bucket of it above your Corner. Well, gotta make like a banana and split!" North gave Wash a jaunty salute and took off running, while South and Wyoming chased after him (Wyoming was a little slower because he was still dressed in Maine's armor). Wash looked after the agents. His headache was evolving into a full-blown migraine now.

There came the revving of an engine behind him, and Wash turned around very slowly. An uninhabited Warthog sat idly behind him, its engives revving as though to charge. With a squeal of tires, the vehicle started chasing after watch.

Under Wash's shout of "Why do cars hate me?!" , three computerized voices chuckled heartily.

"_Excellent idea, Omega_," the Alpha whispered to his personality subroutine, who nodded.

"_And it was thanks to FILSS that we were put in here_," Omega conceded to the ship's dumb AI, whose voice chuckled out of the radio.

"_My pleasure, boys_," she responded in a flirtatious manner as their host vehicle continued to chase Wash around the ship.

* * *

_Ideas from this chapter come from Guest, Omega Ravenger, BIG Z1776, Lili- Hunter, jboone93, and myself (my idea was the armor switcheroo). I hope that it was up to snuff for you guys. _

_ Keep up the suggestions! RR and R, you know. _

_Sincerely,_

_Anna1795_


	15. 15 Where's Wash?

_Two chapters in one day! I felt like I was running late with some of this, so I did two chapters to make it up to you guys/ celebrate reaching over 100 reviews! Thanks to you, all my wonderful reader peoples! I hope you enjoy. _

* * *

"_…people won't even notice you unless they're expecting you,_" the Alpha AI explained to the congregated Freelancers from his holographic pedestal. "_So, if you really want to sneak up on somebody or infiltrate a facility, hide where everybody would be least expecting you: right in front of them_."

"Are there any questions?" the Director asked. Carolina raised her hand like a dutiful grade-school student.

"Even if I am using my camouflage unit, I have had trouble in past missions where people have been able to detect me from where I am hiding. Would it be useful to use something like hiding in plain sight to disguise myself like the enemy and take them out from behind?" she asked, while some of the other congregated Freelancers rolled their eyes. The Director nodded.

"That is certainly an appropriate application, Agent Carolina, but you are not the first to have suggested it," he responded, and Carolina seemed to deflate slightly. "Many soldiers throughout our forces have suggested a similar strategy with similar technology, and I have yet to see any one of those suggestions provide viable results."

"_If you really want to work on something like this,_" the Alpha offered, "_practice on each other. Hide in the one place that everyone knows that you will be, but will never think to look._"

Both the Director and the Alpha acknowledged the slightly creepy grins spreading across the faces of the Freelancers.

* * *

"Hey, North!" South raced up to her brother, gasping for breath. "Have…you seen…Wash?"

"Not since class earlier," North shook his head apologetically. "I saw him heading for the rec room, but I haven't seen him since then."

"What's all this about our dear Agent Washington?" Wyoming came up behind them, causing North to jump in fright.

"We can't find him anywhere, and he's supposed to join the girls for a chick-flick marathon," South explained, standing up straight.

"I can see why he would want to skip out," North whispered, and South turned sharply to face him. "Nothing!" North protested to his sister's glare. "We'll help you find him. Knowing Wash, he's probably looking at cute kitten pictures in a bathroom stall somewhere."

The three of them began peaking into every single room that they could find and capture the elusive Washington, but to no avail. Even with the help of Florida and York, they couldn't see to find the grey and yellow Freelancer.

* * *

"I give up!" York sighed, leaning against a wall and sliding to the floor in the rec room. "We have torn this ship apart trying to find Wash, and no luck at all!"

"Hello…" someone tried to speak up before South exclaimed loudly, "Yeah. I don't know what I was thinking, trying to find Wash when it's obvious he doesn't want to be found."

"Can anyone hear me at-" spoke the disembodied voice again before North exclaimed that they hadn't checked the seventh bathroom on the forward aft section of the ship. The rec room emptied except for one pathetic soul standing in the Corner of Shape.

"I guess the Alpha was right," Wash muttered as he turned to face his corner again, waiting until someone finally decided to notice him. He chuckled slightly to himself as he registered the panic from the other Freelancers trying to find their 'chameleon' companion.

* * *

_Special thanks for this chapter goes to Galuran-093. _


	16. 16 Cold War

_I'm starting to run out of ideas for pranks, people! So, after you read this chapter and the previous chapter, load me up with reviews and requests so that I can include your ideas! I want to keep this collection running for as long as possible. Thank you so much!_

* * *

Texas grumbled angrily as she scrubbed at her armor with paint remover and black shoe polish, trying to return the metal back to its original color of gunmetal black. For one reason or another, no one really seemed to take her as seriously in bubblegum-pink. She gave a snarl as the black shoe polish slid off of the armor, leaving the pristine pink paint intact.

The door to the armory opened, and Carolina slipped inside, taking off her helmet and shaking out her red hair. Texas set down her shoulder plating for a second and stared at Carolina for a second. The other woman stowed her helmet on a shelf and started removing her armor before noticing that Tex was watching her. "What?" she asked curtly, and Texas stood.

"I know what you did," Texas snarled, coming up close to Carolina in a threatening way. Carolina backed up and crouched, preparing to defend herself should the need arise.

"Well, you have a better idea than I do, then." Carolina retorted snippily, not willing to concede.

"Well, get ready for a world of hurt, Carolina. Nobody messes with my armor and gets away with it," Texas growled. She turned, gathered up her armor, and threw it into the processing bin for the engineering team to figure out. Carolina stared after her competition, slightly confused and a lot angry. What was Tex's problem, anyway?

-_The next morning_-

The Freelancers were woken up from a short few hours of sleep by a sharp protest from Carolina's room. Everyone raced out and crowded around the doorway before York managed to pick the lock and slammed the door open. Carolina lay on her front in her pajamas, her feet glued firmly to the mat beside her bed, covered in the ominous thick white paste of the Director's industrial strength super glue. Carolina snarled as people started pointing and laughing at her before she propped herself up enough to point a shaky finger at Texas. "You!" she snarled, and Texas looked honestly surprised at the confrontation. "You'll pay for what you've done!"

"What have I done?" Texas asked innocently, but Carolina only responded with a scream for them all to get out of her room so that she could peel the mat and glue from her feet.

* * *

The series of events continued throughout most of the week, with Carolina and Texas doing something to one another and the victim exacting revenge from the victor Tex's weight-lifting set was rigged so that all the weights were glued together or were replaced with plastic disks made to look like the real thing. Carolina's holographic training program, instead of her regular targets, scenes from 'My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic,' as Carolina claimed to be allergic to the show and all its fluffy cuteness. The retaliation came the next morning when Tex got out of the shower and found ALL the towels gone. Her bathrobe was missing as well, so she was forced to wait for almost an hour before she could streak back to her room and get changed, causing her to be late to her mission briefing.

The antics continued until they had been proceeding for about a week. The Freelancers all sat around at the breakfast table, not saying anything to each other. Texas and Carolina sat facing each other, neither of them willing to break contact with their sworn enemy. Finally, York spoke up.

"Enough, you two!" he said exasperatedly, and the two women looked over at him venomously. "What are you so catty about?"

"She started the whole thing by dyeing my armor hot pink!" Texas exclaimed angrily, pointing at Carolina.

"What the hell?!" Carolina scoffed. "No I didn't. You're the one that put the glue on my bed mat!"

"That's bullshit!" Texas protested. "You're also the one that rigged my weight-lifting set. I couldn't get a descent workout for three days!"

"Ladies, ladies," York said suavely, and they turned to look at him again. "There has obviously been a case of mistaken wrongdoing in this series of events. Neither of you committed those crimes?"

"No," they both responded at the same time, and York chuckled.

"Good," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I wouldn't want someone taking credit for all my hard work."

All the other Freelancers around the table groaned as York betrayed his secret. The two female Freelancers gave murderous glares to York before standing up suddenly, leaving together without a word.

"Was it something that I said?" York asked the table in general, and they all facepalmed in reply.

* * *

-_later that night_-

York felt a ticklish sensation running up and down his face in a line, going from above his eye to about his chin and around to tickle the eyelid of his damaged eye. He didn't want to wake up from his nice nap, but the tickling was becoming slightly annoying. He reached his outstretched arm up to brush away the pestering presence, and something thick and wet slammed into his face.

York's eyes shot open, and he wiped the offending shaving cream from his eyes furiously, sitting up. A note sat in his lap, and he scanned the tidy scrawl.

_Go to the Corner, York. :D_

_- Carolina and Texas_

York stood up and stretched fully just as Wash walked into the rec room.

"Dude, what happened to you?!" the younger agent asked incredulously. York eyed Wash for a second before handing him the note and pointing to the Corner of Shame. Wash read the note and looked up.

"It's for you, though," the scapegoat agent protested weakly, but York reiterated his point by shoving Washington wordlessly towards the Corner. Wash sighed as he plodded over while York went to the nearest bathroom to wash off the shaving cream.

* * *

_The chapter is attributed to Ice assassin Ace, BIG Z1776, ChaosHybrid, and Insurrectionist Sniper_


	17. 17 If You Can't Stand the Heat

_Yay! I'm not dead! And I've been thinking about all of the suggestions put forward, so I'll be submitting more than one story today. These ideas are a little bit older, so I figured that I needed to put them down into words before too long. Don't worry, you will not be ignored! Love to you all!_

* * *

"It was so nice of you to agree to join me in the kitchen today, Maine," Florida conceded to the taller blonde man, donning a professional chef's cap on top of his head and tying a gaudy, bright-colored apron around his waist. Maine gave a growl as he placed a knitted red beret over his own head, tucking his buzz-cut blonde hair into the homemade cap.

"I agree," Florida agreed as he started pulling every utensil, kitchen appliance, and bag of ingredients in reach. "We'll have so much fun making our feast today. What experience do you have with cooking?"

Unable to communicate with words, Maine reached into a cabinet and grabbed a bag of something, stuck it in the microwave, and set it for 3 minutes on high. The door flew open and a stream of popcorn flew out, colliding into the opposite wall and spraying everywhere. Florida and Maine popped their heads out of the overflow of popcorn like gigantic prairie dogs.

"…I guess I have a lot to teach you," Florida mused around, striding through the overflow of popcorn to the counter. "Do you know how to make a chocolate ganache?" Maine gave a confused grumble.

"Do you know what container the garlic is in, at least?" Maine nodded. "Go grab that from the fridge. I'm going to teach you how to make one of my special…delicacies."

* * *

CT wretched into the toilet weakly, trying to flush the disgusting taste of the prank treat out of her mouth with a squeeze bottle of water, then having her stomach protest and try to empty itself even further. Around her, other Freelancers were in a similar predicament…except for Florida and Maine, who were watching with smug smirks on their faces.

"You guys are asses," someone (maybe South) protested before the hurling continued.

"Yeah, well, it was getting too quiet around here," Florida pointed out as York tried to stand up, turned Flubber-green, and ducked back into the bathroom stall again.

"Well, there goes my appetite," North grumbled, standing up and flushing the toilet. The appliance gave a weird gurgle and did not sanitize itself. Confused, he pressed the button again. There came an ominous rumbling.

"Oh god," Florida exclaimed, pushing Maine towards the door. "Everyone out! She's gonna blow!" Everyone shot up and started pelting towards the door. They managed to each get stuck in the doorframe at the same time, trying to squeeze out. They toppled on top of each other, and somebody was smart enough to shut the door. Two seconds later, there came a BOOM and a sickening wet sound of waste hitting metal walls.

"Don't look at us!" Florida protested as everyone looked at the two initial prankers. "We're not smart enough to rig the plumbing like that!" Maine gave a sharp growl. "Okay, so I'm not smart enough to rig the plumbing like that."

Everyone slowly rotated their heads to look at Wash, who gave a weak chuckle. "Just trying to get back at you for the Mix and Match last week," he tried to explain. "No hard feelings, right?" They started to loom over him. "Guys?"

* * *

-_**Later**_-

"This is all your fault," Wash accused as he faced the Corner, and Florida scoffed.

"MY fault?" he asked incredulously, looking at his fellow prisoner. "I'M not the one who came up with the OH SO bright idea of rigging the plumbing!"

"No," Wash agreed. "You and that blonde idiot over there were the ones that decided to make that disgusting candy and get everyone sick!"

Maine none-too-gently clobbed Wash over the head.

* * *

_Special thanks for this chapter goes to BIG Z1776, Lightning257, Omega Ravenger, and _


	18. 18 The Director Strikes Back

South was very confused when she entered the Rec Room later in the day, carrying her dinner in one hand and a book in the other. It seemed like Maine, North, and York had been frozen and moved into position like into a garden. It appeared that she was not the only one confounded by the sight in front of her. Wash, Carolina, and Wyoming were all pressed against the wall like the three Freelancers, frozen in rather ludicrous positions in the middle of the room, had contracted some sort of horrible disease and they were keeping as far away from them as possible.

"What's going on here?" South demanded, setting down her food and book down on a table and standing beside Carolina, who shushed her insistently.

"Be quiet," the older woman insisted. "This room is haunted."

"Haunted?"

"We must not disturb the spirits at work here," Wyoming added, pressing himself even flatter against the wall. Washington accompanied the white-armored Freelancer, shivering slightly in fright.

"You can't be serious!" South almost screamed in exasperation at their antics. North looked at his sister desperately, pleading with her to be silent. His arm twitched slightly, and the TV came crashing down onto the floor. South jumped, spooked by the occurrence.

"I've got my supplies!" Florida said excitedly, running into the room with an armful of candles, books, and other completely random odds and ends. He set them up quickly in some unidentifiable pattern on the floor, sat cross legged, and started singing a little ditty as he lit the candles one by one. The artificially scented smoke became so profuse that everyone started coughing and choking in the fumes. "This will drive any spirits away, I'm sure!" Florida assured them all, wafting the candle smoke around with a feather duster.

"Or show who's really pulling the string?" South asked, pointing to a shape in the smoke that was crawling along the floor. "Maine, take a step forward.

Maine complied, taking a very large step. The table with South's food on it slid out from under the tray, and the food crashed to the floor. South gave a smirk, even though she had lost her dinner. "Well, well, well. I wonder who just happened to tie strings to everyone so that they moved the furniture?"

"TEXAS!" Carolina shouted angrily. A large, cackling, unseen presence whisked past them and shot out the door, with Carolina chasing angrily after the invisible agent…in the completely wrong direction.

* * *

-_**Later**_-

"Excellent prank idea, sir," the Counsellor gave a polite bow to his boss, while the Director whisked his black cape around him and pressed his fingertips together. "And it was remarkable for you to send Agent Texas to execute your plan. Truly, you are one lab experiment away from being a super villain."

"What? You mean I am not one already?" the Director asked evilly, pressing a button on his keyboard. The lights and appliances throughout the ship started flickering on and off in 2-second intervals, and all the intercoms and radios started spewing static.

"I stand corrected," the Counsellor excused himself, and the Director cackled madly as the ship was plunged into chaos.

* * *

_Thanks to Omega Ravenger and their brethren, and ALL of the people who have wanted the Director involved in ship-wide chaos! Muahaha. XD_

_Keep reading, my wonderful readers, and review and request! I am still working on more chapters, and I will be sure to acknowledge your suggestions._


	19. 19 The Haunting

_And...MASS UPDATE!_

* * *

"And so we send off our dear friend with heavy hearts and heavy minds, with the best wishes of a restful peace in the grace of whatever higher power that he worshiped. May God have mercy on his soul." The 10-minute registered minister closed his black binder with a snap, and motioned for North, York, Maine, and Wyoming to set the heavy metal coffin into the airlock. 479r, South, CT, Carolina, and Texas all wailed, dabbing at their eyes with lacy handkerchiefs as the casket containing the body of Agent Washington was set adrift in space. The Director and the Counselor looked on somberly as the silver casket tumbled end over end in gravity, sent out into the vastness of space. The mourners dispersed, whispering sadly at the loss of their companion.

"Whose bright idea was it to go into Wash's room last night and hack him to pieces with a chainsaw?" North wondered aloud as South cried into Wyoming's shoulder dramatically.

"No clue, man," York shook his head. "It was horrible, though. I saw them carting away the pieces on a stretcher this morning."

"Truly dreadful business," Wyoming muttered. "Dreadful, dreadful."

"Well, there's nothing that we can do about it now," Texas sniffed. "The Director gave us the day off so that we could grieve. Let's just enjoy ourselves as much as we can, for Wash's sake." Everyone agreed, and they began resuming their free-time activities with the thought that Wash would have wanted it.

* * *

"How many times was Wash sent to his Corner when he was alive?" Florida asked Maine curiously as they stood together in the Rec Room, watching the Corner where they could always find Wash in his spare time. Someone had thoughtfully tacked up a few kitten pictures in memoriam to Wash. Just as they were pondering it, though, North and York tumbled into the Rec room in nothing but towels around their middles, scratching at their skin until it was red.

"You know, I don't think that THIS was what Texas had in mind when she meant we could take the day off," Florida said playfully to the two male Freelancers, who glanced at him witheringly. Maine growled something about them invoking the wrath of Wash's spirit, and they could expect the family jewels to be falling off soon for defiling his memory.

"Shut up, Maine!" York growled as he continued to itch and twitch on the floor, North on top of him in similar throes. "We just took a shower and started drying off, and now we CAN'T. STOP. ITCHING!"

There came a shriek, and 479r ran into the room, her face decorated in the most ludicrous manner with cover up, blush, eye shadow, eye liner, and bright purple lipstick. "I just went to take a nap, and I woke up with THIS!" She gestured at her face in mortification, and ran off again in hysterics.

Outside the room, Florida could hear soft chuckling. Curious, he peaked around the door frame and saw, to his utter disbelief-

"Wash?!" he croaked. "You're supposed to be dead." It was the 'dead' Freelancer, in the flesh, chuckling inside his armor as he rolled around on the floor, clutching at his sides.

"You should've seen your guys' faces!" Wash gasped as he continued to laugh at the result of his pranks. "They're priceless!"

"Wash, weren't you killed in some crazy Texas Chainsaw Massacre?" York asked from around his fervent scratching.

"Nah, the Director and Tex were in on the prank," Wash explained as he leaned up against the wall, still chuckling. "She came into my room with a chainsaw that had no chain, then we put pieces of meat from the kitchens in my bed to look like I had been hacked to pieces. We put a few rocks in that casket thing and launched it into space, and I decided to lace the towels with itching powder while you guys were at my service. I also painted up 479r's face when she went to take a nap after the funeral. It was awesome!"

Everyone stared at Wash incredulously. "Why?" someone asked finally.

"For all those times that you guys pulled pranks and had me sent to the corner for what you did," Wash answered with a malevolent smirk. "That should teach you to mess with me!"

Two seconds later, Wash was screaming down the hall with several angry Freelancers and one angry pilot hot in pursuit.

* * *

_Special thanks for this chapter goes to Ghost-407, Lili-Hunter, At335, Omega Ravenger, and The Happy Riolu_


	20. 19 Fly on the Wallor in the Ceiling

_Hi there! Yeah, I'm not dead. Senior year only happens once, and thank goodness for that! Now, I have this huge project done, so I can get back to updating my stories for cathartic release. For your enjoyment, here's another chapter! Don't forget to check out some of my other stuff while you're at it. Thanks!_

* * *

It was the middle of the night on the Mother of Invention, and every living soul besides the personnel on guard was sleeping soundly. Nothing short of a stampeding herd of elephants and zebras would have woken anyone up at this point in time. Not even the random blue vortex that suddenly appeared in the Freelancer Rec Room. Out of the vortex came Agent Washington, looking to left and right before running towards the door and opening it.

"I knew I should have done this a long time ago," the agent whispered to himself. "Now, I'm back to finally get my revenge and pull this off." He stopped outside Agent Maine's room, punched in the code, and slid inside quietly. A moment later, he slipped back out again with a dark, reflective bundle in his arms. He went back into the Rec Room, opened up one of the ceiling panels, and tossed the bundle inside with a dull clatter. He tossed up a few various liquids as well, connected a thin metallic plate to the panel, and shut the ceiling again. Chuckling, the future Agent Washington entered the blue vortex once more, and vanished without a trace.

* * *

-_**The next morning**_-

"What do you mean, Maine doesn't want to come out of his room?!" Carolina asked incredulously to Wash. "We have a mission today. What could possibly be keeping him from getting ready with the rest of us?"

"Hey, I'm just the messenger!" Wash retorted. "He just said that he wasn't coming out. All I know is that Sigma wasn't there to help translate. Do you know how HARD it is to know what Maine is saying without Sig?"

"Guys, keep it down for a second," South called over to them, as she stood frozen under a certain ceiling panel. "I hear something." North and Florida came over to investigate, staring up at the panel as a thick buzzing filled the area under the metallic square.

"What do you think it is?" North asked, and Florida shrugged.

"Well, we're not going to find out just by standing around," York pointed out, gesturing for North to give him a boost. Sitting on North's shoulders, York pushed up on the ceiling panel to investigate.

A deluge of orange foam exploded through the opened ceiling panel, engulfing the four Freelancers in the splash zone and spraying Carolina and Washington with residue. York toppled off of North's shoulders and landed in the foamy puddle, and Maine's helmet landed on his stomach. Sigma's hologram projected itself onto the muck, arms folded and scowling. "_It's about time you heard me and got me out of there_," the AI groused.

"Okay, I remember where this came from," South growled, furiously clawing foam from her visor. "And there is only ONE other person who is as much of a 'Big Bang Theory' fan as I am." Everyone glared pointedly at Washington, who stepped back cautiously.

"What?" he asked incredulously. "You think it was ME that did this?"

"We don't THINK," Carolina emphasized. "We KNOW."

"Go to your Corner, Wash!" North and York both pointed to the foamed-up corner of the Rec Room, and Wash trudged through the muck without protest, head hanging in defeat.

"_Would SOMEONE return me to Agent Maine promptly?_" Sigma hissed, and Florida picked up the foamy helmet with two fingers, not wanting to get the orange muck on his hands.

* * *

-_**the future**_-

Washington cackled as he replayed the footage from the prank several years ago again and again, tossing popcorn into his mouth.

"I know I was a dick to my past self," he breathed for a moment. "But it was TOTALLY worth it. Best prank ever. Of all time!"

* * *

_**Credit for this chapter goes to Semper Fi and Devil-O-Angel, as well as 'The Big Bang Theory' and 'The Office'**_


End file.
